


Like Champagne in Your Veins

by VelvetPaw



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Exhibitionism, Hat trick Celebration, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 14:01:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17061119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetPaw/pseuds/VelvetPaw
Summary: The team holds its own very special celebration after Patric Hornqvist's hat trick against the Avalanche (12-4-18).





	Like Champagne in Your Veins

Joy sizzled in his veins like champagne bubbles—fizzy and bright—leaving him feeling slightly giddy and breathless.  A natural hat trick! He’d scored a fuckin’ hat trick! Patric knew he was grinning like a loon, but every time he’d get his face under control a teammate would nudge him or someone would mutter, “Hatrick Hornqvist,” and he’d be grinning all over again.

Sid waited until the cameras were finally turned away before bumping his shoulder. “So proud of you man.  Well done. We’ll celebrate properly after the media scrum, eh?”

Patric felt his cheeks heat at the promise of being the center of a team celebration, but the goofy grin had a mind of its own and he found himself beaming helplessly at his captain. “Yeah.”

Sid gripped his neck and grinned back.  “So good, Patric.”

As the team trooped down to the locker room after their 6-3 victory over the Avalanche, Patric felt a different kind of heat fill him.  He knew he had to get through the coaches’ talks and media but the prospect of his looming reward settled heat deep in his belly.

He grinned through the cheers and teasing from his teammates as he entered the locker room, accepted the warrior’s helmet with a few humorous words and sincere gratitude for having such wonderful linemates and teammates.  He smiled gamely through the endless questions from the media, wearing one of the hats thrown on ice after his hatty—the fastest in Penguins history, he learned.

Finally, finally the media cleared out and Sid closed and locked the doors behind the last of the visitors.  Most of the team had showered while he was finishing up with the media and now they sat around their stalls, half-dressed or wearing only towels.

“Okay, listen up!” Sid called, bringing the room’s attention to himself. “The team is going to celebrate Patric’s hat trick.”  Stomping and hollering met this announcement. “Patric, what’s your pleasure?”

Patric could feel everyone’s eyes as they turned to him.  The heat that had been a low-key buzz deep in the pit of his stomach spread, sending heat coursing through his veins.  He grinned, looking around the room. So many choices!

Many were familiar from their various celebrations—the sweet sounds Guentzy made at his hat trick celebration were still fresh in his memory.  He could fuck that sweet little ass and hear Jake crying his name. Sid’s celebration after their first game against the Avalanche had been subdued since they’d lost but, if he asked, he was sure Sid would apply that stamina and laser focus to taking him apart and making him scream with pleasure.  He shivered a bit at the thought of those heavy thighs smacking into his ass. Or maybe, Phil? Phil might appear a little pillowy to a casual glance, but Patric knew for a fact that the soft appearance hid a hard core of strength that would be perfect for holding him down and pinning him in place as he used that sensual mouth and slight sadistic streak to take Patric to the edge over and over again, until Patric was begging for release.  Just the thought had Patric flushed and panting.

But then his eyes drifted to Geno, lounging lazily in his stall.   His eyes were hidden under sleepy-looking lids and his casual pose hid the quiet desperation Patric knew he was feeling.  It had been a long time since his last goal, and Patric knew it was eating at him. Maybe he could share his luck? Geno caught him staring and a wicked smile grew as Geno spread his thighs, pulling the towel tight against his groin.  Even resting, his massive cock caused the towel to bulge.

Patric licked his lips.  “Geno. I want Geno’s cock.”

“Umm, good choice,” Sid murmured in Patric’s ear, even as the rookies hauled the fucking bench out and settled it in front of his stall.

Geno stood and dropped the towel, giving Patric a moment to admire the Russian before he strode across the room and pulled Patric up and into a heated kiss.  Geno dominated the kiss, a commanding hand on the back of his neck positioning him exactly as Geno wanted him. His thick lips were heated silk moving over Patric’s before his tongue swept in and tasted him thoroughly.  Patric could feel himself melting under the onslaught. When Geno finally drew back, Patric swayed forward slightly, not wanting to stop.

Geno’s hands came up to cup Patric’s face, focusing his attention solely on Geno.  “Best Horny, such pretty goals, and so _fast_.  But I’m not be fast with you. Going to take my time, open you up on my fingers, spread you wide before I’m fuck you so good.  You want that, Horny?”

“Oh fuck yeah!” Patric breathed.  Geno grinned, sharp and wicked, then released Patric to settle right in the middle of the wide, padded leather fucking bench.

“Strip Horny.”  Patric hurried to comply, ripping off the last remnants of his drying base layers.  Geno pretended to debate for a long moment as he eyed Patric from top to bottom and back up again.  “Hmm, know you not shy,” he paused as the rest of the team chuckled since Patric was infamous for running around the locker room in the bare minimum allowed in front of the media, “so think we give the boys a show, hmm?”  He patted his lap. Patric tilted his head inquiringly, so Geno reached out to grab a hand and tug him closer. “Over my lap, Horny. Boys watch as I stretch you open.”

Patric felt his cock stir even as a blush heated his cheeks, spreading rapidly down his throat and over his chest, but he willingly settled himself over Geno’s lap, ass in the air for all to see.  Geno shifted, repositioning Patric until his cock dangled between Geno’s widespread thighs. Patric grunted, wanting to protest, but Geno kneaded his ass cheeks firmly. “Want you come on my dick, Horny, not on fingers.  You thank me later.” Patric snorted, pretending to be skeptical but secretly pleased that Geno was going to take care of him. He pillowed his head on his arms and relaxed into Geno’s hold.

Geno wiggled his fingers imperiously. “Need lube,” he demanded when no one immediately jumped to do his bidding.  Patric watched Sid roll his eyes fondly, but he obligingly rummaged in his bag for a tube. He handed it to Pettersson with a gentle nudge. Marcus looked wide-eyed but obediently walked over and attempted to hand the tube to Geno.

“Open. Pour,” Geno demanded again, wiggling his fingers.  When Marcus complied and tried to move away, Geno glared. “Stay.  Need lots lube. Watch and learn, rookie.” Marcus blushed fiercely, looking determinedly at the floor, but he heeded Geno’s command and stayed close.

At the first touch of the cold lube against his hole, Patric sucked in a sharp breath.  “Fucker. Couldn’t have warmed it up first?”

Geno pinched him lightly on the hip before sinking the tip of one broad finger inside.  “No whining. You roll around in snow after sauna.” Patric hissed and pushed back helplessly, loving the first sensation of being filled.

“More,” Patric groaned.

“So bossy,” Geno mock complained, but he slipped the finger deeper before drawing it slowly out and pressing a second one in alongside.  Patric relaxed into the stretch with a drawn-out sigh. Geno’s fingers were long and thick and perfect. His cock hardened to its full length despite bobbing unattended between Geno’s thighs.

Geno withdrew his fingers.  “More lube.” Marcus startled, dropping the tube before retrieving it and rushing to squeeze more slick onto Geno’s fingers.  Geno promptly slid two fingers back in to the hilt, the wet squelching sound clearly audible. “See how well he takes it? How much he likes it?” Geno’s soft voice drawing everyone’s attention to _exactly_ how much he liked it made Patric squirm in pleased embarrassment. He didn’t always bottom, but he loved the full feeling of having something in his ass and now the whole team knew it.  His cock grazed Geno’s thigh, causing a bead of pre-come to leak from the slit. Geno patted his hip fondly.

“Need to open him up lots,” Geno scissored his fingers, adding more stretch and drawing a soft groan from Patric.  Slowly he drew them out, pausing at the rim to separate them slightly. A quiet gasp had Patric looking over his shoulder to where his countryman now knelt beside Geno, watching as Geno teased open Patric’s hole.

“What you think, rookie?” Geno watched Marcus’ face as he slid two fingers back inside Patric.

“Så jävla vacker (so damn beautiful).” Marcus said breathlessly. Patric whimpered, the Swedish words both embarrassing and arousing.

“Oh, he like that,” Geno chuckled.  “Maybe you say lots of pretty Swedish things to him while I add third finger.”  There was a pause as more lube was applied, then Geno eased in the third finger.  Patric quickly went from relatively relaxed to strangling the bench in a death grip and rutting desperately against Geno’s lap, frantically seeking more sensation for his cock.  He was so fucking full just from three fingers. He wasn’t sure how he was going to be able to handle Geno’s full cock.

The cock in question stirred hotly under his hips, pressing into his belly like a molten iron bar.  Geno tightened his grip on Patric’s hips, stilling his movement. Then Geno pushed deeper with all three fingers.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh!” Patric chanted as the burn faded, replaced by a deep-seated throb. “Fuck!”

Marcus whispered a steady stream of breathless Swedish—compliments, praise, obscenities—but Patric rapidly lost the sense of it, caught up in the sensation of Geno’s fingers curling to graze his prostate.   Just when he thought he could take no more, he caught Marcus’ breathless exclamation, “Fyra (four)?”

The tip of Geno’s pinkie teased at his sloppy entrance before squeezing through the overfull pucker, rendering Patric speechless and writhing. It felt like ages before he could do anything more than pant through the sensations.

“Please, oh please,” Patric gasped as he thrust back desperately, pushing his ass up and back onto Geno’s fingers before rocking his hips frantically, grazing the head of his cock against Geno’s thigh on every pulse. “Please!”

Geno slapped his thigh lightly.  “Yes, think you finally ready.” He withdrew his fingers slowly, big hand settling firmly in the small of Patric’s back to hold him still while he did so.  Patric couldn’t stop the distressed whimper that escaped him when he was finally empty again.

Geno’s hands on his hips guided him up and off the bench, effortlessly steadying him when his knees threatened to buckle.  Instead of standing like Patric expected he would, Geno remained seated, shifting his hips back so his ass and thighs were more completely supported by the bench.

“Geno?” Patric queried, unsure of the play.

Geno leaned back on his hands, the move emphasizing his rock-hard dick, the head wet and leaking.  “Grinder like you, think you might like to ride?” Geno’s voice asked the question, but the knowing look in his eyes said he already knew the answer.

“Cocky bastard,” Patric muttered.  “Condom?”

“I’m test clean last week.  Your choice.”

Patric’s eyes fluttered closed as he tilted his head back and sucked in a deep breath. The thought of all his teammates watching him walk by with Geno’s semen dripping down his thighs was almost enough to get him off right then and there.  He had to grab his balls and tug sharply to stave off the impending orgasm.

Patric opened his eyes and met Geno’s knowing one.  “No condom.” Looking around he saw Marcus still kneeling there, mouth agape, lube held limply in his grasp.  He grabbed the lube, squirted a generous amount in his hand, then gave Geno’s cock a long, slow stroke from tip to base.  Geno threw back his head on a long moan of his own. Patric repeated the stroke again, just to watch Geno’s thighs shiver with the strain of holding back.

“Up.  Now.” Geno’s command left no room for disagreement. Patric put one knee on the bench near Geno’s hips before a hand on his hip halted him.  “Other way, face team. Let them watch your pleasure.”

“Oh fuck!”  The softly voiced expletive perfectly matched Patric’s thoughts but he wasn’t the one to utter it.  He looked down to see a wet spot spreading slowly across the front of Marcus’ workout pants.

“Oh my god!  I’m so sorry. I just … I couldn’t,” Marcus quietly stammered his apologies.  A gentle hand on his shoulder had him looking up at a smirking Olli Maatta and accepting the towel he offered.  Olli pulled him to his feet, whispering quiet reassurances as he led the other man away.

“See?  Hot!” Geno told him.  He patted one thigh in an obvious gesture for Patric to climb on.

Patric wanted to roll his eyes at Geno’s ridiculousness but the emptiness in his ass and the throb of his cock said otherwise.  Turning his back to Geno, he positioned himself over Geno’s thighs. A quick look over his shoulder assured him that Geno had his cock in hand, positioned for Patric to take.  A touch on his shoulder had Patric turning to see Phil offering an arm.

“Spotter.  Brace yourself on me.  Coach would kill us if you got a concussion along with your reward.”  Phil’s grin was bright and mischievous. Patric winced at the thought of having to explain an accident like that to management.

Bracing one hand on Geno’s knee and the other on Phil’s arm, Patric slowly squatted until the head of Geno’s cock met his hole.  Taking a deep breath, he bore down, gasping when the head pushed for entrance then slid in with what felt like it should have been an audible pop.  He groaned, thighs straining as he struggled to stay still enough to give his body a chance to adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

“Doing so good, Horny,” Phil’s quiet praise drew Patric’s attention.  “Look so good taking Geno’s humongous dick.” Patric whimpered, wishing for a moment that he could see for himself.

He eased down, slowly stuffing himself full of Geno’s cock.  When his thighs finally came to rest on Geno’s lap, it was all he could do to pant heavily, sweat beading along his hairline and the base of his spine.  His thighs quivered; the strain of the game, plus the need to hold his weight up so he didn’t crush Geno, almost too much even for hockey-conditioned thighs.  He was thankful for Phil’s strength supporting him.

Geno sat up straighter, causing his cock to shift inside Patric.  Patric instinctively spread his legs wider to stabilize himself.

“Umm, now that’s a pretty picture.”  Patric looked up to find Kris Letang staring at him, one hand in his pants, stroking his own cock.  Patric knew what he had to look like — his blonde hair still spiky and wet with sweat, his fair skin flushed a heated pink with arousal and exertion, the muscles of his arms and legs corded as they worked to support his weight.

“Oh, yeah, very nice,” Jamie Oleksiak agreed.  His arms were crossed over his chest as he relaxed back into his stall, but his wide-spread thighs left no doubt that he was affected by the sight of Patric taking Geno’s cock.

“Almost as pretty as his goals,” Jack Johnson said with a smile.

“Oh, no!  Much prettier,” Jake Guentzel disagreed breathlessly, making the rest of the room chuckle softly.  His cheeks flushed a bright pink and he ducked his head, but Patric was flattered to notice that he kept sneaking looks despite his embarrassment. The fact that his teammates were watching and finding him pleasing sent a forbidden thrill straight to his core.

Geno chose that moment to grab Patric’s hips, pushing him up before letting him rock back.  Patric keened, shivering violently and clutching Phil’s arm hard enough to bruise as Geno’s cock grazed his prostate.  “Oh! Fuck! Geno! Again!” Patric lifted and rocked, too impatient to wait for Geno to move. He rapidly found a rhythm and position that had Geno grazing his prostate on a regular basis.

Patric’s cock bobbed against his stomach, angry red and desperate for some touch.  Patric growled, unable to touch it himself since he needed both hands for balance.

“Hmm, looks like you could use a hand there.”  Sid’s softly spoken comment had Patric looking up desperately.

“Yes, please. Oh!” His head fell back as he continued to shift his hips up and down, thighs straining as he fucked himself on Geno’s cock. “Please.”

“Or maybe you’d prefer a mouth?”

Patric stared up at Sid, surprise making his face go blank.  He’d felt a little greedy asking for Geno as his reward, to have Sid, too … Sid huffed softly in amusement, before sinking to his knees in front of Patric.

“Oh, fuck!” Patric’s hips stuttered to a halt as his mouth opened and closed slowly, trying and failing to find more articulate words.

“Hey, G?” Sid tapped the inside of Geno’s thigh.  Obligingly, Geno wrapped an arm snuggly around Patric’s waist and spread his thighs wide,  spreading Patric’s thighs with them. Patric now sat impaled on Geno’s cock with his thighs spread obscenely, cock drooling a steady flow of pre-come as his captain knelt in front of him.

“Doing okay there, G?” Sid spared a quick glance up at Geno.

“Fine, Sid, but maybe not go too slow.”  The strain in his voice told Sid he wasn’t far from coming.

Sid licked his lips and looked up at Patric, “Is this okay?”

Patric nodded furiously, “Yeah, yes, yeah!”  Patric want to squirm but Geno’s arm around his waist acted like an iron band holding him firm.

“You did such a good job for us, Patric. We’re all so proud of you.” Sid’s quiet words pierced Patric’s rising need and he reached out helplessly to cup his blunt fingers around Sid’s cheek.  Sid leaned into the touch for just a moment before he opened his mouth and sucked the head of Patric’s cock into his mouth. Patric’s breath strangled in his throat as Sid sucked messily at his cock.  The hot, wet suction felt heavenly on his long-neglected dick.

Tearing his gaze away from Sid, Patric looked up to see the heated gazes of his teammates on them.  On him. He sucked in a halting breath as he savored the looks ranging from lust to fondness centered on him, all of them watching, relishing his accomplishment, sharing in his pleasure.

Geno’s dick seemed to throb in his ass, a heavy heat that brought his attention back to his partners. Patric could hear Geno’s soft groans as he started pulsing his hips ever so slightly, the barely there friction tugging gently at his hole.  Geno’s arm spasmed once and then tightened as Geno came with a soft grunt and a small nip to Patric’s shoulder.

As if that was his signal, Patric felt his pleasure rise to the very edge.  His balls pulling tight, Patric barely had time to warn, “Sid, coming!” He fancied he could feel Sid’s smile as his captain sucked him deeper into his mouth.

Patric felt something inside give way—it felt like the pop of a cork—as the joy once again spilled over, filling his veins with a blast of fizz and bliss.

 


End file.
